


Trapped in a Robyn Song

by DameJames



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Friendship, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Original Character(s), Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameJames/pseuds/DameJames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry thought he was over Zayn, that those pesky romantic feelings from the beginning of their relationship were long gone now that they were just friends. But now he's in the corner, watching Zayn kiss some new guy, and Harry suddenly realizes what Robyn is singing about in "Dancing On My Own."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped in a Robyn Song

Harry had never been in love before—or had even come close for that matter—but he was sure he was in love with Zayn Malik.

Pretty sure.

Maybe?

Okay, so he had no goddamn clue what his feelings toward Zayn were. They seemed to change by the hour, by the minute even. One minute he would look at Zayn while they were on the tour bus watching _Easy A_ for the millionth time and think to himself, “Wow, I’m incredibly lucky to have him as a friend.” The next, he would be seething with jealousy because Zayn would never see him the way he wanted Zayn to see him.

Life was turning into a Robyn song. And not one of the badass ones, mind you. More like the songs whose aching sadness made you curl up in the fetal position.

When Harry met Zayn at the _X-Factor_ house in One Direction’s infancy, things were much easier. As he was introduced to the dark-skinned god with lashes that went on for miles, Harry couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like out of his clothes. He remembered blushing at the thought and Zayn smiled at him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

Later that night, Harry got to find out what Zayn was hiding in those jeans. He was not disappointed.

There was no penetration. Harry always clarified that whenever he told the story to someone. But their time together did involve a lot of cuddling and kissing and jerking each other off. The week he spent with Zayn was probably the best of his life. Sometimes, he thought back to those mornings wrapped up in Zayn’s arms. The smell of stale cigarettes permeating from his skin like the most intoxicating cologne imaginable. The stupid banter they whispered to each other as time floated from midnight to six a.m. in the blink of an eye. As his feelings for Zayn became complicated, Harry felt he would give everything up just to go back to those days.

When it ended, it ended suddenly and without explanation. One day, they were making out while watching _Bridesmaids_. The next, Zayn was saying good night at ten p.m. without so much as a kiss on the cheek. They still laughed, still enjoyed each other’s company. But something was off. Harry spent many nights wondering if he did something wrong.

Sure, _X-Factor_ was well under way and there was _a lot_ that needed to be done. This was their big opportunity. They didn’t want to fuck it up. But Harry knew something was wrong.

Even in those early days, Harry realized Zayn wasn’t great at dealing with emotions. Harry wasn’t exactly what you would call gifted in this area either, so it suited them to stick to lighter topics of conversation such as Britney Spears vs. Adele (Harry was definitely Team Britney). Whenever real feelings were breached, one of them usually made a joke and changed the subject quickly. Things were changing around them so rapidly with their success in the first few weeks of _The X-Factor_ , there wasn’t time to deal with any of that. Harry didn’t want to heap this on Zayn’s already full plate, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Zayn just needs time,” Harry reasoned to himself. “If I give him enough space and don’t pressure him, eventually he will come around.”

Patiently, Harry waited for a sign, _any_ sign, that Zayn was interested. He fantasized nearly every time they hung out that that night would be the night Zayn would stop whatever they were doing, look up at him with those big, sad eyes and say, “You know what, Styles? I think I’m ready.” And Harry would smile, his heart about ready to burst. And Zayn would lean in to kiss him and everything would be perfect.

It was a lovely idea. But that’s all it was. The only physical contact between them was one time on stage when Harry was so into his performance he came perilously close to falling off the stage and Zayn grabbed his arm to pull him away from the edge. Harry thanked him but secretly wished that Zayn had let him fall. At least the physical pain would distract him from his inner turmoil. Plus, the bumps and bruises would eventually heal.

Harry moped for months, through the _X-Factor_ finale, the signing of their record contract and the preparations for their pending debut. Even though everything else was going well for him, waiting for Zayn was slowly driving Harry insane. He didn’t need Zayn to declare his love by writing it in the sky. He just needed to know if this _whatever_ they had was going somewhere.

After a long day of rehearsals, the two of them were lying chastely in Zayn’s bed watching a Channing Tatum movie. Harry knew he had to make his move right then.

“Zayn?” Harry asked, a slight quiver of hesitation in his voice.

“Hm?” he replied, forgivably distracted by Channing’s naked torso on the screen.

“Do you,” he started slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Do you think that we’ll, like, ever be…you know…together?”

The instant the words left Harry’s lips, he felt foolish. _Why couldn’t you play it cool, Styles?_ , he chastised himself. Zayn paused the movie and turned to look at Harry as if he had been expecting this all along, relieved that it was finally out in the open.

“I like you, Harry. I’m just not ready to jump in a relationship,” he said gently. He was surprisingly chill, not at all angry or freaked out like Harry had imagined.

The news wasn’t what Harry wanted to hear. But at least it was out in the open and he could finally process his feelings. Maybe Zayn didn’t love him in that way. That was okay. He was still one of the best friends he had ever had. Besides, Harry reasoned, it’s not as if he was completely giving up. Zayn was a big boy. Now that he knew how Harry felt, if Zayn wanted to be with him, he could say it, too.

If he was genuinely happy being friends with Zayn or if it was all a brave front, Harry wasn’t sure. Were there times when they went to the movies and Harry secretly wished Zayn would grab his hand and intertwine his fingers with his own? Of course. Harry wasn’t going to get over his feelings in a day. Luckily, he was so busy with One Direction and their worldwide success, he barely had time to think about Zayn. Harry was simply happy to have someone during this crazy time.

Oddly enough, the months Harry spent being friends with Zayn brought him an even greater joy. The pressure gone, Harry felt himself becoming comfortable with Zayn in ways he never imagined. The two of them could spend a couple hours sitting next to each other, neither of them saying much, as Harry scribbled song lyrics and Zayn doodled (often times in a leather-bound sketchbook Harry gave him last Christmas). Zayn always gave Harry his work, which he then kept in a folder that found a permanent residence in his suitcase. Zayn was one of the few people Harry felt comfortable showing his writing to. Plus, he was the first to offer genuine feedback, not just generic “It’s great!” comments. Harry pushed himself further just to see Zayn’s face light up when he read a particularly clever line. He opened up to Zayn through his writing, sometimes explicitly referencing Zayn and their past. If Zayn ever noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Things were going so well, Harry began to wonder why he ever considered Zayn a potential boyfriend.

After nearly two years of friendship, Zayn understood a lot about Harry, probably far more than he would ever admit. It wasn’t that he didn’t say anything on purpose; it just wasn’t in Zayn’s nature to discuss such things. He was the type of guy who would do things to show you he cared rather than say the words so much they lost their meaning. It was one of the things Harry admired most about Zayn.

As Harry opened up to Zayn, he finally felt Zayn beginning to reciprocate. He was never going to be an open book, mind you. There were parts of Zayn that still felt like a complete mystery even after all this time. But Harry was beginning to see cracks in his stoic façade. Every time he spoke to Zayn, he felt like he learned something new about the lad. And just when he thought he knew Zayn, he would throw a curveball. In his quiet way, Zayn gave Harry an adrenaline rush he found himself craving more and more as time went on.

One random night, they spent hours on the hotel balcony passing a bottle of Jack Daniels back and forth. As the bottle emptied, Zayn went into detail about the year-long relationship he was in right before he auditioned for _X-Factor_. Harry quietly drank in every word Zayn uttered about the relationship, but the one story that stuck out for him was the time he prepared a special dinner for him because he had had a rough week. Zayn’s boyfriend didn’t say a word during the meal, not even a thank you. Then, right before he was about to leave, he told Zayn that he had cheated on him and wanted to break up. From the detached way Zayn told the story, Harry could tell he was trying to pass it off like it was no big deal. But he knew that the relationship had damaged him tremendously. Suddenly, his earlier reluctance made sense. It was in that moment, watching Zayn’s face as his heart broke all over again, that Harry felt like he made amends with their past. Even if he didn’t want Harry, Zayn deserved someone. And Harry truly believed that.

Or at least he thought he did. He certainly wanted to. He wasn’t sure why those familiar feelings reared their ugly head again after so long, but there they were as obnoxious and crippling as ever before.

The night it happened started like any other. The boys had the next day off, so Zayn and Harry decided to go out to a nightclub. Liam tagged along despite not being much of a drinker most likely to stave off the boredom of the hotel. As soon as they entered, Harry walked to the bar and ordered three drinks: one for Zayn and two for himself.

“That kind of night?” Liam asked. His eyebrow rose in a mocking manner.

Harry simply laughed and downed half of his drink in one sip. Little did he know it would turn into that kind of night.

The three of them sat and yelled at each other over the loud music and energetic crowd. When Zayn finished his drink, he volunteered to grab the next round and scurried off to the bar. It was after Harry and Liam laughed about the time someone threw a used tampon on stage and it nearly hit Niall in the face that Harry noticed Zayn had been gone for quite awhile. He craned his neck toward the bar and saw him talking to a not unattractive boy. Harry was surprised only because Zayn wasn’t the type to converse with strangers in bars. He could be pleasant enough, but people were usually put off by his introversion, assuming his silence meant that he wasn’t interested. After a second, Harry shrugged it off and finished the rest of his drink.

Zayn returned a few minutes later with the drinks and his new friend, Mike. He smiled warmly at them and sat in the seat next to Zayn. Within thirty seconds, Harry understood why Zayn was drawn to him. A few general questions from Liam about himself were filled with stammers and dead air. He made Zayn look like a brilliant conversationalist. As this went on, Harry could feel himself disengaging from the conversation. He decided to have another drink to liven himself up. It didn’t work.

“I’m going to dance,” he finally announced, much to the surprise of Zayn and Liam.

“Brilliant idea,” Mike chimed in. Now it was Harry’s turn to be surprised.

Mike turned to Zayn and pressured him to join. Harry knew that if there was one thing Zayn was more awkward at than conversation it was dancing. He was just about to mention this when Zayn downed the rest of his drink and said, “Let’s do this.”

The four of them made their way to dance floor. Despite the good-sized crowd, they found their own spot rather quickly. Harry, not anyone’s idea of a good dancer, began moving savagely, relying on the alcohol to mask his inadequacies. Next to him, Liam began gyrating with the cadence of a malfunctioning robot. Zayn and Mike stood in their circle as well though they spent most of the time grinding on each other. Every time he caught a peek of them, Harry began dancing harder in the hopes that he could twerk the image out of his head.

Every so often, he caught Zayn smiling at him. Harry assumed it was because of this Mike fellow and didn’t say anything. By the fourth or fifth time, he finally asked what was up. Zayn sauntered over, the effects of the alcohol clearly beginning to take hold of him, and pointed at Harry’s shirt.

“You look better with these buttons undone, Harry,” he said.

He looked down at his button-down shirt, tonight done up all the way to the collar, and shrugged. It wasn’t bothering him in the slightest. Taking matters into his own hands, Zayn reached toward his shirt and undid the top two buttons. Harry was so caught off guard, he could only stare incredulously as Zayn’s fingers delicately brushed the exposed part of Harry’s chest. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, as if Zayn was the first boy who had ever touched him.

Zayn resumed dancing with Mike a few seconds later, but it took Harry a bit of time to recover. Those familiar arguments Harry thought were long-forgotten suddenly popped up in his consciousness. They were only friends. He wasn’t attracted to him anymore. He wanted him to find a good guy. Zayn deserved everything in the world. Harry repeated these like a mantra to calm himself down. As he did this, he noticed that Liam had left the dance floor, leaving him alone with the new coupling. Zayn gestured for Harry to move in closer to them, but he pretended to be too caught up in dancing to notice. He moved around half-heartedly until he heard the opening beats of Robyn’s “Dancing On My Own.” Harry noted the irony.

As he twirled around and Robyn moaned, “I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her,” something caught Harry’s attention.

Mike kissing Zayn.

Without a second thought, Harry bolted from the dance floor. He had to find Liam. After a bit of searching, he finally spotted him outside hanging out with the smokers even though Liam had never so much as held a cigarette in his life.

“I got too hot,” Liam explained as Harry approached. “What’s wrong?” he added with a frown.

What _was_ wrong? Harry’s head was drowning in Jack Daniels and feelings he couldn’t explain. The words “Zayn” and “kissing” and “mine” swirled around the tip of his tongue, struggling to exit. Harry knew he had no logical reason for getting this jealous over some guy Zayn hardly knew. Zayn rarely spoke about his love life with Harry, but he assumed that he hooked up once in awhile. This could be a simple one night stand, a body quickly forgotten after it had served its purpose.

In other words, this was the beginning of the end.

Okay, so Harry was being a little irrational. He could admit that but really didn’t give a shit.

Pretty soon, some guy would snatch up Zayn, leaving Harry all alone. What would Harry do when this happened? He hadn’t realized until this very moment the extent of his attachment to Zayn, how much of his life was tied to his existence. If that piece of his life turned to shit, where would he be?

He hated Zayn for not reciprocating his feelings, even though he knew how completely unfair that was.

Harry wanted to say all of this to Liam, to cry into his broad shoulder and unburden himself of two years of pent-up feelings. But he didn’t want to lay his problems at Liam’s feet. He didn’t think he could stand the pitying looks he would give every time Zayn’s eyes lit up while talking about the new guy in his life. And he already knew that Liam would beg him to tell Zayn everything. Harry could tell that this was a bad idea. Zayn would become uncomfortable and immediately slam the breaks on their friendship. Harry would rather bottle up these feelings than have this happen. A little bit of Zayn Malik was better than nothing at all.

“Zayn and that guy started making out in there,” Harry finally sputtered, his voice as firm and even as he could attempt.

“I see,” Liam responded. But he didn’t. Not entirely.

 

xxx

 

Two months later, Zayn is still seeing Mike. They communicate mostly through text as the band finishes up this leg of the tour. In a week, Zayn will be flying Mike out so they can see each other. This is the fourth time Zayn has done this. He confesses to Harry that they are not officially dating but it’s definitely a future possibility. Harry smiles at the appropriate places, but he feels like vomiting. He keeps all these feelings to himself. If he fought them once before, he can do it again.

The night Mike gets into town, Zayn goes out drinking with him. Harry receives a text from him.

_Even if I start dating Mike, you’re still my favorite person._

Despite the drunken reassurance, Harry does not feel assured in the slightest. In fact, it only fuels his fear that Zayn will move on without him.

_Bros before hos_ , Harry finally replies. He hopes the humor masks his true feelings. The knot in his stomach grows tighter.

A couple days later, Harry is sitting at dinner with both Zayn and Mike. Harry intuitively knows Zayn invites him because he wants him to get to know Mike better. For the most part, the evening is going well. Harry is carrying the bulk of the conversation. He tries his hardest not to come off like a bitter queen. He finds out that Mike is a cool dude, much to his annoyance, and even texts Zayn this while he’s in the bathroom splashing cold water on his face.

But every so often, Mike will place a hand on Zayn’s knee or Zayn gives him a goofy look and Harry suddenly wishes a crazed fan had slipped arsenic in his food. Harry has to physically turn his head and look away because the intimacy makes him uncomfortable.

When he turns back, he makes sure he has a smile on his face. Maybe if Zayn believes that he’s happy, Harry will begin to believe it himself.


End file.
